


I Am Nothing

by mymastermine (littlelapin)



Series: Together [1]
Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: DBrDom, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-10-03 19:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelapin/pseuds/mymastermine





	I Am Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psykedelic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psykedelic/gifts).



Dominator felt… heavy.

Sometimes, the weight didn’t bother him. Sometimes, the weight would drag him down, make him feel like his knees might buckle.

Dominator’s half-lidded gaze trailed over, finally landing upon wavy locks and a set, focused face, determined and caught up in a set of papers with equations and messy handwriting scrawled across the margins. Solid, muscled arms, decorated in black outlines, moved and rippled as he gripped a new set papers with brimming, yet quiet confidence and resolve. He would murmur something to himself, under his breath, before moving to scribble on the papers and shift them around again.

But, when he would look at Doom Bringer, he felt… not heavy—light, even.

It was a certainly different feeling than before, that much was for sure.

“Need something?”

The strong voice vibrated in Dominator’s ears, settling in his mind, as he snapped to, then almost relaxed. Amazed, yet not, that even his voice could wash a sort of wave of calm over him.

“Yer staring ya know.” Doom Bringer grunted, before finally looking up, locking eyes with Dominator.

Dominator’s gaze fell down to Doom Bringer’s notes, and just as quickly moved to meet Doom Bringer’s eyes again. A pink muscle darted out to lick lips that suddenly felt dry before he began to think of answering him. He didn’t miss how Doom Bringer seemed to follow the small gesture, with attentive eyes, but other than that, gave no other indication of interest. 

There was a deep, attractive rumble from his chest, Dominator recognized it as his holding back a chuckle. “It’s rude.” There was a playful bite, a smirk in that voice, but once again Doom Bringer gave no indication that he was or had smirked.

“You’re impressive.”

—that’s what he had wanted to say. But those words were lost to his lips, gone with another swipe of this tongue over lips that still felt too dry. Instead, a composed voice replied, “Your equation there, it’s wrong.”

“Ohhh?” Doom Bringer purposely drawled his voice there, Dominator just knew it. “You sure about that?”

“I’m sure—” Dominator carried himself closer, plopped gently down beside the other, not paying any mind to how their shoulders were now brushing from how close they were. He casually slid the pen he’d been working with from his fingers, smooth, fluid, slick. “—that I’m right and you’re not.” His reply was all childish. Dominator set to work, occasionally flickering up back and forth to find… Doom Bringer attentively watching him, as if he were trying to absorb his every movement and scribble across the paper.

After some time, Dominator pulled back with a soft “there” and presented his finished work to the brawler.

It was Dominator’s turn to stare, again. And stare he did, because Doom Bringer just sat there, once again trying to take in all the information, watching him silently run the calculations himself. “Hoh, so you were right…”

Dominator waited for him to explode, make a fuss, a jab—

“You’re amazing, Dominator, thanks.”

—but it never came, left him reeling at the different reaction. How sincere he sounded, voice soft and tone filled with something akin to amazement. A reaction he wasn’t expecting.

He was expecting him to react like Psyker would.

But he didn’t.

Doom Bringer had changed—he had grown.

He was stronger in every sense of the word. Physically, for sure. That was what he’d nearly sacrifice his life for, Dominator noted (almost bitterly). Emotionally and mentally was the other last huge factor. They weren’t children anymore—for awhile now, but Doom Bringer had… matured, in a way Psyker had lacked.

Lacked…

Dominator turned away from Doom Bringer, failing to even acknowledge his earnest praise from earlier as he bit down on his lip, hard.

Doom Bringer _had_ grown, but what about him?

He had felt the need to reply so haughtily, teasing and childish, like he was hoping to provoke something on the same level from Doom Bringer, but when he hadn’t… and then replied so genuinely, his light and voice full of fondness almost haunting him—that just left Dominator questioning himself. Doubting himself.

Amazing? How could Doom Bringer even think he was worth a fraction of that praise.

“Dominator… ?”

It was Doom Bringer, and how dare he sound so concerned.

“You seemed spacey, wanted to ask you to join me for a cup of coffee?”

Despite Doom Bringer and all his attention and care, Dominator suddenly felt that crushing weight again. Weight heavy enough, that even if he wanted to join Doom Bringer for that cup of coffee, he wasn’t sure if he could manage without strenuous effort.

“Yeah,” his mouth betrayed him and his feelings, moving for him as he dished out a reply, almost automatically, “I’d like to.”

Dominator suddenly felt very heavy.


End file.
